Love or Duty
by Mortekai
Summary: Anders finds himself torn between working with Justice for the betterment of mages and working with Garrett Hawke for the betterment of all Kirkwall. M!Hawke x Anders.
1. Chapter 1

Author notes: So this is my first ill attempt at a fanfic-let's see how I fair. I plan to have it follow the storyline, but have some dialogue varied up/altered.

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><p><strong>I.<strong>

My eyes skimmed over the letter once more. There was no mistaking it; the handwriting belonged to Karl. I ran my thumb over the curvy, thin letters and let out a soft sigh. "Don't worry, Karl.. I'll be there. I'll be there," I murmured under my breath, reassuring myself; I tucked the letter into to pocket of my coat. _Why not strike now, Anders? They won't expect it, _the all familiar spirit placed the thought in my mind. I chewed on my lip nervously. As much as I wanted, I knew I wouldn't be able to survive if I attempted to barge in the Circle. No. Karl would have to wait until tonight. I turned slowly to be greeted by my first patient of the day: an elf with cut along his left flank. I attended to him, and many afterwards. Sailors with grotesque rashes, mercenaries with infected wounds, young and old with a cough that wouldn't go… The list had gone on.

As my day neared an end, two people rushed in: an older lady and a middle aged man. Mother and son, I assumed. In the man's arms was a younger boy. The woman attempted to explain, but her voice was thick with emotion. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, held that helplessness that many of my patients and family had. I put a finger to my lips and made a soft 'shh' sound to her. She sniffled loudly and rubbed her nose with her tattered sleeve. Her eyes were staring at me expectantly so I swiftly turned to the man. "Put him there, on that table." I instantly set forth to my task of healing the boy.

I sucked in breath; I could feel my reserves of mana steadily deplete itself. _You were the one that wanted to do this, so don't be so weak._ His voice was just a whisper in the back of my mind. A reminder, you may call it. I grunted in acknowledgement and kept on my task, forcing my healing magic into the young boy that lay on the table in front of me.

To my relief, his eyebrows twitched. He stirred slightly and his eyes slowly opened, squinting in the light. I withheld my magic and tumbled backwards, feeling feeble and drained of energy. His grandmother clung desperately to her boy as if letting go meant he would die. The middle aged man—the boy's father—helped steady me and mutter many thank you's; I could feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth momentarily before Justice prodded at my mind, _Don't be smug, Anders. There are many of them out there and the numbers grow every moment—you haven't even helped a small percentage._

My face regained its melancholy expression. Of course, Justice. The blasted spirit was always right. I rubbed my temples, thanked the refugee, and swiftly pulled away from him, leaning against the wall. I let my forehead press against the dirty walls as I tried to ignore the throbbing headache and aching pain forming in my limbs. I felt Justice prodding at my mind for control while antagonizing me with a speech. Like always. I groaned, sternly thinking 'shut up, Justice.'

—_I understand this is right, Anders, but is it really necessary? You are helping no mages by doing this. You are simply healing people that will harm themselves again. You need to focus on your goal. Mages. How many times will I have to tell you? Just let me—_I felt my vision blur as he fought for control. I bit my lip and mouthed a few words silently, in attempts to calm him down, but they were worthless attempts.

I heard the refugees cluttered in my clinic mouth a few gasps. "H-Healer! You have a—" one of them stammered.

"Leave, please," I said in a rather irritated tone before they could finish, feeling Justice prod at me. My eyes were starting to burn. I shut them... I heard some footsteps as people shuffled out. I let out an audible groan and felt Justice flare out for only a second before retreating back to my mind. Instead, his voice rumbled, _We have guests. Can I trust you to at least handle these three?_

I pulled my staff from the wall and spun, taking a defensive stance. Standing in front of me were two humans and a dwarf. I opened my mouth but felt clueless on what to say. They looked rather well equipped and trained in their arts—I doubt I would survive more than several minutes in a fight against them. Fear began to settle in me as I gaped at them with a clueless expression. Justice must have realized that, as he pushed my throat into producing words. "_I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?"_ The words felt too foreign and awkward coming out my mouth.

The girl and dwarf seemed to tighten their fingers over their weapons but the man in the middle just waved a hand carelessly, ushering them to put away all hostility. He proceeded to grin and cross his arms, watching me with an inquisitive expression. "Strange occupation for a Warden. Aren't you more about taint and death, not healing and salvation?"

I slowly relaxed my muscles, though Justice kept my brain tense and ready to strike. I couldn't help but knit my eyebrows, returning the man the same inquisitive look he had just given me. "Did the Wardens send you to bring me back? I'm not going." I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I was holding and turned away from the man, staring at the ground as I recalled memories I was not fond of. "Those bastards made me get rid of my cat. Poor Ser Pounce-a-lot. He hated the Deep Roads."

There was a silence from the three. I'm sure they were exchanging expressions or just deciding what to say. I couldn't help but shift my gaze over to them. The man, who I assumed to be the leader, was just staring at me with a dumbfounded look.

"You…. Had a cat? In the Deep Roads?" was the only thing he managed to ask.

"Ser Pounce-a-lot. He was a gift. A very noble beast." My eyes softened as I recalled fond memories of my precious cat. _Those will have to wait for another day. Dispose of our guests now, Anders._ He could try asking nicely for once.

The fellow continued to stare at me, as if wondering I was going to say more, but seeing me go silent, he simply shook his head and continued on talking. "I'm part of an expedition into the Deep Roads," he paused, as if deciding carefully what other words to say, "and any information you have could spare people's lives."

I felt my rage flare slightly. "Spare people's lives? Andraste's knickers! Why don't you just stay out of there then? I will die a happy man if I never have to think about the blighted Deep Roads again. You can't imagine what I've been through to get here. I'm not interested…" I paused, chewing on the idea. "Wait, no. Wait, wait." My fingers slipped into my pocket, feeling Karl's letter. "Although, you three look like a capable bunch." I turned to face them, slowly walking towards them. "Favor for a favor? You help me, I help you?"

His two comrades seemed to squirm slightly; he pulled another smirk and raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what the favor is. I don't do anything that involves abusing children or animals," he responded, his eyes having a twinkle.

I gave him a look of disgust. Did he not remember the previously mentioned Ser Pounce-a-lot? Or see the child I was attending to moments prior? But instead of commenting on it, I pushed the comment aside. "Look, I have a couple Warden maps. It, erm, shows the depths in this area. Some entrances. But there's something I need you to help me with, if you want it so bad." _Anders, no. Don't involve them in your problems. Just give them the maps, if they are so eager for an early grave._ I ignored Justice and instead stammered on, "I.. Came here to help a friend. A mage. He's a prisoner in the wretched Gallows. But the Templars somehow learned of my plans to free him. Help me to safety and you can have the blighted maps."

"Garrett, can we trust him? Do we even know if he has the maps?" the girl spoke softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. I took a closer look at her and couldn't help but feel surprised. Her weapon was a staff. So she was a mage as well? Why didn't I notice that earlier. She leaned towards the leader, whispering something in his ear. The man—Garrett was his name?—drew his mouth into a thin line. And patted her hand.

"Don't worry, he'll better have him or we'll just have to drag him along with us," he said with ease. I glared at him.

"I have the maps. I don't lie, but I won't show them until we help my friend. Understand?"

The dwarf elbowed Garrett. "Hawke, we can't really argue about this. We better help him out. You know we need those maps."

The leader nodded and looked at me, his face turning serious. "Alright, we have a deal. I'll help you out…for those maps."

I nodded, crossing my arms. "Alright then. Tonight. Meet me in front of the chantry. Understand?"

He nodded. The trio left. My eyes lingered on them as they walked up the steps. As soon as they were out of sight, I turned around and sat on my examination table. My eyes traveled to the ceiling as I listened to another one of Justice's lectures. _What do you think you're doing? You don't need them, Anders. The more people you get involved with, the more known you are. The more known you are, the more likely Templars will come knocking on your door. You're being reckless now! Utterly foolish! You only need—_I closed my eyes and relaxed on the table. I was starting to get use to his banters at this point. For now, I thought loudly to myself in hopes he would heed me, I'll need some rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**II.**

I leaned against a column in the Chantry courtyard as I waited for the fellow and his two friends. I had previously watched Karl go in there and after wait an agonizing amount of time, I was starting to doubt that they were even coming. Was it foolish of me to think someone would even help me? _Yes._ I huffed, my face turning into a scowl. _Why don't you just go ahead and see Karl? You do not want to keep him waiting for some unnecessary help._ Deciding to agree with Justice, I clenched my staff tight and pushed myself away from the column and neared the entrance. As I was about to enter, I could hear muffled voices.

"—don't make my guards fight gangs in dark corners, but if you'd like to help, Hawke—"

"Shhht, Aveline. We're here. We'll save this conversation for later."

"Look, they're here. I knew they'd come. They want those maps, Justice," I muttered softly to myself. The leader's two companions was replaced by a femme: she had a strong build and red hair. She wore the guard uniform. I winced as I felt Justice flare a bit. _They betrayed you! They brought a guard to arrest you—get out of here now!_ I attempted to inch out of sight but was too late; the leader had spotted me and waved, climbing the stairs with unexpected exuberance.

"Hope we didn't keep you waiting too long," he murmured in a low voice when he was in earshot. He smiled. "Anyway, ready to go?"

I felt irritated, though I noticed this was becoming increasingly common for me. First, he keeps me waiting—though that might be my fault because I was rather vague when I said 'meet me tonight'—but now he brought a guard along and was acting like nothing was wrong? My eyes flickered towards the guardswoman. "Who is she?"

He seemed rather confused. "That's Aveline," he responded.

I pursed my lips together into a thin line. "I don't mean that. Why did you bring a guard?"

He furrowed his eyebrows together. "Bethany was a tad too nervous and Varric said he couldn't make it." He motioned towards Aveline. "She's not a Templar. She won't throw you in the Gallows, if that's what you're worried about," he said, his tone serious.

I shook my head. "Whatever. Let's just get going. We can't afford to keep Karl waiting any longer. Oh, and I'll do the talking. Just make sure no Templars sneak up on us." I sucked in air and slipped inside the Chantry with the three following close behind. I turned around and glared at Hawke, quickly emphasizing already spoken words, "When we find Karl, just let me talk to him." He quickly nodded and we went on walking.

I rarely visited the Chantry. I saw few reasons to. After all, the Chantry and the Templars were closely linked and well, being an apostate… I'm sure they would not enjoy my presence. The seldom times I did come here though, I found it always to be rather quiet. Every word would bounce off the walls, giving a nice echo. On this night, it was much the same, but the atmosphere felt tenser. More uncanny. The tall walls loomed over us; their tall shadows cast from the highly place windows. Our shadows seemed to join in the mockery as they eerily stretched and twisted behind us. I felt a shiver creep down my spine but I tried my best to ignore it.

The three of us climbed the steps in absolute silence. I neared the right wing of the Chantry and felt my heart flutter. He stood with his back to me and his gaze fixed on something in front of him. My pace quickened and I reached out my hand to touch his shoulder tenderly, a motion I had often used for him alone.

"Anders, I know you too well. I knew you would never give up." The words came out flat and monotone. I felt my lips mouth his name but no sound came out; my throat was growing tight as my mind came to the conclusion that the impossible had happened.

_Anders._ Justice's prodding nature drew me out of my trance. I ran my tongue over my dry lips and exhaled a shaky breath. "What's wrong? Why are you talking like—" I began to say, my voice getting thick with emotion. I already knew the answer, but I didn't want to believe it. It couldn't be true. My hand gripped tighter on his shoulder, forcefully pulling him to face me.

Karl made no restraint as his body simply twisted with ease in my grip. His steel eyes gazed into mine but there was nothing in them. No life. Just… Nothing. My brown eyes broke away from his eyes to gawk at his forehead. Branded on it was the picture of the sun, the Chantry, the mage's symbol for Tranquil. Words poured out of his mouth but they were still as void of emotion as before. "I was too rebellious. Like you. The Templars knew I had to be… Made an example of."

"No!" I exclaimed. It was the only thing I could utter as I felt tears well up in my eyes and a tingling feeling come about my throat.

"How else will mages ever master themselves? You'll understand, Anders. As soon as the Templars teach you to control yourself. This is the apostate," Karl said.

I could hear Hawke cough softly, murmuring something along the lines of there being Templars, but it meant nothing to me. I let Karl down. I failed him. The only thing that caused me joy in my life had suffered because of me. I could help refugees live a slightly longer life, but when it truly mattered to me, I couldn't do it. 'Karl, I'm sorry!' I wanted to call out so miserably. I wanted to throw myself at his feet and kiss his toes softly and whisper sweet memories and tell him it would be okay but… Even I couldn't do that. I was ready to resign. To throw myself on a blade and let myself die. Or perhaps just catch myself on fire! That would be more honorable than allowing people believe I allowed a Templar to strike me down. I was sure I had enough mana to do even something as simple as that.

But of course, Justice wouldn't allow it. I could hear, no, feel him, practically screaming at me. Telling me _no_, I couldn't do this. This wouldn't help any mage. If I just died now, mages would continue to be mistreated. I felt every fiber of him forcing me to let him have control and I gave up the fight. I let him have it. I was too tired, too defeated. I felt my eyes burn as the sensation of pure light was being radiated from them. And then—nothing. It was a gap in my memory, like every time this happened.

When Justice was satisfied—When I came to my senses, I could see Templars' corpses strewn across the floor. My staff's blade was completely crimson and glancing at my clothing, I could see there was blood splattered on that as well. I felt myself gagging. I would never get used to this.

"I—"

It was Karl's voice. I spun around, my expression sympathetic.

"Anders, what did you do?" His eyebrows were furrowed. I inhaled and swiftly moved up to him, clenching his hands in mine. His eyes seemed to twinkle slightly as he continued talking. "It's like… You brought a piece of the Fade into this world. I had already forgotten what it feels like."

"What did you do? Not the Fade part—the angry glowing bit," I heard Hawke say. He seemed to be trying to put some light-hearted humor in this situation. Instead of saying anything to him, I ignored him, keeping my eyes on Karl.

"It's like a gateway to the Fade inside you. Glowing like a beacon."

"I have some… Unique circumstances, yes," I said, dropping my voice to a whisper. "But Karl, what happened? How did they get you?" I clung to his hands desperately, feeling my mind flashback to the grandmother and her grandson earlier today. So is this how she felt? So desperate? If she were to let go, he would cease to be?

The corner of Karl's mouth tugged down into a frown. "The Templars here are far more vigilant than in Ferelden. They found a letter I was writing you…" He paused, shakily adding in, "You cannot imagine it, Anders. All the color, all the music in the world, gone."

I let go of his hands and instead wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight embrace. He eased up, slowly wrapping his arms around my neck and resting his head on my shoulder. I tilted my head towards him, softly cooing a "shh" sound into his ear.

Karl's lips brushed my neck gently. His voice came soft and sweet, comforting and soothing like during our many escapades at the Ferelden Circle. "I would gladly give up my magic, but this? I will never be whole again." I felt his face bury deeper into my neck and it suddenly felt wet. Was Karl crying? "Please, Anders, I beg you. Kill me! Before I forget again! I don't know how you brought it back, but it's fading…" He pulled back, staring into my eyes.

Normally, I would only recall seeing his devoted love for me, but now, all there was left was fear and brokenness. He wiped his swollen eyes with his sleeve but kept staring at me. He did not need to utter any more words because his expression said it all. "Karl, no…" I whispered.

"Maybe we can find a cure," Hawke meekly said, reminding me once more that I had brought companions along this mission.

_Impossible_, Justice bluntly said in my mind. I, of course, didn't need him telling me that. I glanced over to Hawke and replied, "Can you cure a beheading? The dreams of Tranquil mages are severed—there is nothing left of them to fix."

"I would rather die a mage than live as a Templar puppet," Karl whispered.

"My sister calls being Tranquil a fate worse than death. You should…Give him peace," Hawke added in, his tone sympathetic.

I felt the crying sensation well back up again as I gazed into Karl's eyes. "I got here too late. I'm sorry, Karl. I'm so sorry." I gazed at him one last time as I rethought of our times together. I cupped his cheek in my hand and started to lean forward to give him one last kiss.

His eyes widened slightly. "Now! It's fading… Why do you look at me like that?" His tone had regained its flatness.

We never had that kiss. I ended his life with no struggle, just a soft gasp as quickly turned on my heels, fleeing away from the body. Away from the man I loved. I could hear Justice's voice. _You've learned why you can't wait too long. Many other mages will suffer the same fate if you dawdle around and don't take initiative. Now you've learned, yes?_ He went for a while before adding in a hurried statement. _But it isn't your fault, Anders. There was nothing you could do to prevent this from occurring._

I ignored Hawke and Aveline as they called out my name, confused. I quickly returned to my clinic and locked it up and laid on the examination table, but knew that sleep would not fancy me tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

**III.**

Hawke came around the next day around evening when my influx of patients had reached a standstill. He was staring at me with an unreadable expression, as if he was trying to decide an opinion on me. I wanted to scoff. I'm not some sort of puzzle to be figured out! I crossed my arms and glared at him, as if the small action would guarantee him an early grave. "What is it now?" I asked impatiently.

"You forgot to give me the maps," he said gently, leaning against the doorframe.

"I—Ermm, I'm sorry about that. I forgot," I muttered, shuffling over to a small chest that possessed the minimal belongings I would never give up under normal circumstances. I yanked out the rolled up Warden maps and tossed them at the man, who caught it with ease. I continued on with what I was doing, reorganizing my herbs and ingredients, scrubbing my examination table… My eyes glanced towards the door to see him still lingering there. Still with that unreadable expression. "What in Andraste's name do you want?" I hissed out.

"What was that last night? You glowed like a… I don't know!" I remained silent, concentrating on scrubbing a blood stain off the table. Noting I wasn't say anything and was determined not to, he stammered on, "Is this the part where you tell me you're an abomination?" I glanced at him once more; his eyes had widened slightly as if he was in disbelief.

I sighed, staring back at the large rusty red smudge that refused to budge. "You're wrong, but… Not far wrong. This is hard to explain," I eventually said, tossing the cloth away in defeat and instead turning my attention to him. If he had stayed here for so long and still looked as if he wasn't going to budge—well, in short, I'm sure he wasn't going to budge without at least a few answers to his questions.

"You're telling me," he murmured sarcastically.

What was up with this man? I tried to be completely serious and give him an answer and he always found the need to be funny or sarcastic or just plain not serious! It was irritating. As much as he got on my nerves though, I suppose he deserved the truth. Plus, I'm sure he or his guardswoman friend would be very willing to tip a couple hints towards the Templars if I didn't provide them some explanation. _And we don't want that,_ Justice hastily added in. Of course, Justice, of course. I attempted to figure out a way to explain my situation without mentioning Justice, but that was rather impossible, wasn't it? I finally resolved to tell the man about the spirit. "When I was in Amarathine, I met a spirit of Justice who was trapped outside the Fade. We became friends. And he recognized the injustice that mages in Thedas faced every day."

"So I wasn't so far off with that 'abomination' theory?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes. Could we interrupt me more than he already often did? "To live outside the Fade, he needed a host. I offered to help him. We were going to work together. Bring justice to every child ripped away from his mother to be sent to the Circle. But I guess I had too much anger. Once he was inside me… he changed."

The man's eyes seemed to flicker up and down, as if looking at me head to toe would allow him to see Justice. "So he's a demon now?" he asked me.

"No," I reassured him, but at this point in time, I'm sure I was only reassuring myself, "he is a spirit whose only purpose is to see an innocent saved and the guilty punished. But there was just too much hatred in me. Justice thought he could overcome it, but it only corrupted him. He is no longer my friend Justice, he is a force of vengeance, and he has no grasp of mercy."

Hawke remained silent, instead boyishly twisting a clump of his messy black hair around his finger, contemplating on what to say. He slowly pushed himself off the doorframe and walked inside my clinic, making a loop around the room, stopping to observe every detail of it. I watched him carefully, making sure he did not attempt to steal any of my items. "So," he mumbled while he picked up a vial containing a lyrium potion. "You and Karl were…?"

This man was starting to give me a headache.

"Good friends," I replied shortly.

"Didn't seem like that."

"I always believe people fall in love with a whole person, not the body."

"I wasn't judging you."

I remained silent, my eyes skimming over him. "Well, why'd you bring the topic off?" I asked curiously.

Hawke placed the vial down and turned towards me. He scratched his beard and grinned. "Oh, I don't know. I was just thinking about it. I'm sure people can't resist that," he paused, his green eyes seeming to twinkle just the slightest, "sexy tortured look you have going about you."

I could feel my cheeks flush red as I swiftly turned away from him, letting out an awkward cough. Did that really just come out? "P-Perhaps… I should check a looking glass more often," I awkwardly muttered under my breath.

I could hear him shift his weight from foot to foot. "Did I say something wrong? I mean, I was so sure I pulled that off rather well. Perhaps I'm getting a tad bit rusty, eh?" he said, finding it necessary to add a humorous tone.

Recomposing myself, I slowly turned my head back to him. "The timing was horrible. Just… Please leave, if that's okay with you. You got your maps and I think that's all you needed. So just… Run along now."

His gaze lingered on me. He opened his mouth but quickly closed it and shook his head instead. "I— Alright," he said shortly, hesitantly walking towards the exit. I got up and followed behind him. As he exited the doorway though, he paused and turned towards me. "Look, if you ever need some fresh air, you can find me or my dwarf friend Varric at the Hanged Man, over in Lowtown."

"I know where Lowtown is."

"Well, just in case. One can never be too sure."

"It's okay though, if I ever need fresh air, I'll just walk outside."

His jaw jutted out slightly and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, if you— Can I visit you again?"

"Fine," I hastily breathed out. "Just, please, leave me alone for now. I have things I need to do." Before giving him a chance to say anything, I forcefully added in a, "_Thank you_ for visiting." I could hear the tinge of Justice in my voice. My hands found the thin metal I considered the door and slammed it down, effectively covering the male on the other side. I rubbed my temples, trying to lure the slight headache away with the touch of my fingertips.

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><p>Thank you for reading what I've managed to put up so far.<p>

I'm still trying to decide whether or not to make it follow the romance path or the rivalmance path. Any opinions?


	4. Chapter 4

Author Notes: Thank you so much for adding the stories to the favorites and even the reviews! After reading the reviews, I decided to go with friendmance.**  
><strong>And sorry for the huge delay in this chapter-I've been trying to beat my Dalish elf playthrough on DA:O so I can do another playthrough of DA2 to refresh my memory. DA:O is such a long game though, ahhhh.

Anyway, I'll stop jabbering. Here's the next chapter, and I hope you guys enjoy it.

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><p><strong>IV.<strong>

I could sense my working day was nearing an end; I was starting to feel weak and feeble, an indicator that I was becoming void of all mana. I left out a soft sigh and announced the clinic was closing for the day. The people seemed sad and disappointed, but what was I to do? I had no money for lyrium potions to replenish my void mana; I spent what little I had on bandages and basic first-aid items. Apologies and promises of tomorrow flowed out my mouth as I loomed in the doorway. I watched them all leave, drifting on uncertain paths towards the hovels they would consider home. I frowned. _There's nothing you can do, Anders. _Not now, Justice. You're the last thing I want to talk to. I shook my head and slowly turned away from the sight as if readjusting my vision onto something else would brighten my mood.

"Hey, Healer," he said with ease.

I could feel my eyes widen. I threw my hand against my heart and choked a gasp. Sitting on my table was that blighted Hawke. He was hunched over, his elbows propped onto his knees and his head resting in his palms. His eyes seemed to twinkle with—what? Amusement? Did I look that stupid? I slowly dropped my hand to my side, clenching it slightly.

I had gone three bloody days with having to hear or see that fellow. The back of my mind was hoping I would never have to see him again. Or maybe that was just Justice's thoughts. The corners of his mouth slowly pulled into a grin and he slid off the table, approaching me with slight caution, as if I would snap and Justice would come out. I couldn't help but tighten my hands into a fist at the thought.

"I have a name, you know," I said, my response delayed.

"Eh, I know. Anders, yes?" he replied, the amusement not leaving his expression. The way he walked and the tone of his voice—I could tell he was in a good mood. His light footsteps led him right in front of me; being relatively close, he tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes giving away a sense of curiosity in him. He opened his mouth as if to say something but promptly shut it and instead he slipped his hands into mine and tugged me forward. His feet swayed side to side, as if he wanted to dance.

I swiftly jerked away from him. "What are you doing here? And how did you get in? I told everyone to ge—"

"You told me I could visit, but I didn't want to visit while you were busy. And well, you closed for the day so I just sort of… Slipped in while you weren't paying attention I guess." Having no dance partner, he held out his hands to an imaginary figure, continuing his slow swaying. He hummed under his breath. I stood in silence, gawking at the man. He was absolutely bizarre! Taking note that I was rather silent, he slowly added in, "I was wondering if you'd like to head over to the Hanged Man with me." The words came out somewhat melodically, moving at the same pace as the rest of his body.

I grunted out my refusal.

He moved towards me, his hand lightly taking hold of one of my fists and raising it over my head, making ill attempts to spin me around. I stayed planted on my feet. "You are _no_ fun," he said, frowning, though by the tone of his voice, the face could have passed as a pout. He put my hand down and took a step away from me. Hawke ceased his dancing and instead watched me as if the longer he stared, the more likely I'd cave in and go to the bar with him. "Please? Just one time?" he asked softly.

"No."

"I can be pretty stubborn. I'll stay here all night if I have to, you know," he grinned.

"And I'll just use some magic to kick your arse out my clinic if I have to, you know," I replied, mocking his tone and grin.

"Oh, so you do have some humor in you!" He looped one of his arms around mine, tugging.

He was so…. Touchy, in the sense that he had to have his hands over everything. Everything he did, it seemed like he needed to feel it. I groaned softly and jerked my arm, but to no avail. He was prepared for my reaction this time and made the grip on my arm rather solid. "Please let go of me," I mumbled.

"Only if you come with me to the Hanged Man and have a drink or two," he said, his eyes twinkling.

I could feel my irritable mood inch towards anger. "_Fine_," I answered him, feeling Justice echo the same word in my mind. _Anything to get him to leave us alone._ Hawke's face brightened up—I didn't know it was possible for him to be anymore happier than he was previously. With his arm still looped around mine, Hawke dragged me out the clinic. The man's steps had a bit of a bounce in them in contrast to how I was dragging mine. I'm sure we're quite a sight to behold, I thought grimly. I felt Justice chime in his agreement.

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><p>In the time I had been in Kirkwall, I don't recall ever coming to the Hanged Man. It had a homely feel to it; I couldn't help but notice the familiar smell of wet dog, reminiscent of Ferelden. The patrons of the bar sat around low tables, talking merrily. The atmosphere was too similar of times when I was younger and more carefree. Before I had welcomed Justice into my body. But things have changed—with Justice in my body, with my whole life different—I felt awkward. Out of place. Of course Hawke didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable I was getting. He simply directed me upstairs, playfully shoving me into a private room. I was getting ready to panic, but I was automatically put at ease when I saw someone else was in the room.<p>

The dwarf—Varric, if I remember Hawke saying his name to be—was seated at a table, his legs propped up. He looked at me with slight interest before directing his attention back towards Hawke. "So, you brought Blondie?"

I couldn't help but glower. "Blondie? Is that some sort of nickname? I'm sick of nicknames," I muttered half-heartedly. The two ignored me and exchanged curiously glances.

Hawke grinned and laughed softly. "In case you don't remember, this here is Varric." He paused, scratching his beard somewhat awkwardly. "I'll go get some drinks—I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, disappearing within seconds, leaving me with the dwarf whom I really didn't know. I awkwardly sat down in one of the open seats, not knowing what else to do. The dwarf shifted his gaze over to me again, eyes flickering up and down as if he was sizing me up or something. My throat felt tight.

"You were a Grey Warden?" he asked. He removed his feet from the table and propped his elbows on it. Fingers interlocked, he leaned towards his hands, giving the impression that he was very interested.

"Eh," I replied curtly.

"Oh, don't be shy about it, Blondie. I know you were. I was just curious," he paused, deliberating over his words, "to see if you would tell me any of your adventures."

I lifted an eyebrow, "Why do you want me to tell you about..?"

I was cut off. "It makes for a great story. And I'll tell you, people here _love_ a great story."

I opened my mouth, as if to say something, but no words came out. I didn't know what to tell him. Luckily, Hawke had returned, barely managing to hold onto three large goblets. He placed one in the according spots near us and took his spot at the table. "I hope you guys didn't start without me," he said cheerfully.

"Start what?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, I don't know. I thought we could talk. Share stories. Play some cards. Drink. Be merry. Those were my plans for the evening," the man said.

"I agreed only to stay for a drink or two. Not to talk or be merry or whatever the hell you planned," I grumbled. The two ignored me and instead went on to chatting.

Staring into my drink, I couldn't help but realize how stupid it was of me to come here. And how Hawke was even more stupid for inviting—no, forcing—me to come here. I mean, just look at me. I was a mage who had taken in a spirit. A healer who strived to help out the reckless poor whose only plans seemed to be to get hurt again. I was the one who was supposed to make things better for mages, but was still sitting on his arse waiting for a miracle to come. I lingered bitterly on the thoughts for who knows how long, but I could only imagine it had been awhile. While my first drink still lingered in my hands, Hawke and Varric seemed to have constructed a pyramid out of their empty cups. I became attentive to the conversation, however, when I heard Hawke utter my name several times.

"Anders, Ander, you still there?"

I blinked my eyes and looked up to see Hawke and Varric staring at me.

"Huh?

"What do you think of the idea?" Hawke said inquisitively.

"What? I mean… Yeah—sure," I muttered. Perhaps if I agreed with him once, he would leave me alone.

His face shot up with excitement. "Really? That's great!"

"I didn't think he'd actually agree," Varric mumbled, uttering a low whistle.

"Good to have you on the team," Hawke hurriedly said.

I'm sure my expression was priceless. What did I just agree to? I gaped at Hawke and the dwarf.

"Well, that settles that then. So if we need you, we'll swing by the clinic," Varric added in. "Now you two get out. I enjoy company and all, but I really must get my beauty sleep." He grinned.

I couldn't say I wasn't happy to be leaving, but I definitely wasn't happy that Hawke was leaving at the same time. We both exchanged our farewells with the dwarf and left his suite. When we reached the outside, Hawke smiled meekly at me, softly saying, "Thanks so much Anders. I thought you'd be more resistant to the idea, but…Really, thank you. It's great to know that you're willing to come along and… Just thanks."

I felt my face drain of color. "So that's what I agreed to? Being part of your team? Your… Ermm, adventures?"

"Well… Yeah," Hawke answered. He started to look distraught.

I sucked in breath. I turned my head away from him to stare at the moon. It was curved into a perfect crescent. "I see," I sighed out.

"You don't actually want to—?" Hawke started to say.

"No," I snapped.

"Oh, I see."

I remained silent, slowly shifting my head so that Hawke was in my peripheral vision. He had looked to the side, away from me. I could see he was scratching the back of his head. Obviously disappointed in me, he let out a sigh.

"Well, if you change your mind, you can always swing by the Hanged Man," he told me.

"I won't," I quickly replied.

He walked with me for the rest of the trip to my clinic. The two of us had remained silent for most of the time; at one point, I asked him if it was necessary to escort me to my own home, to which he replied that his home was nearby—sort of—and that he wanted to make sure I didn't get hurt or jumped or mugged. At that, I rolled my eyes but decided to bite my tongue instead of say anything. No need to make useless conversation.

We reached the clinic and he mumbled good night to me before sulking away. I couldn't help but keep my gaze on him as he slowly drifted out of my sight. A bit of pity settled in me. I was being an arse to him and he still tried his best to get me to join his escapades.

I couldn't help but wonder if refusing to be part of his team was the right decision? He had helped me with Karl with few questions—_it was for those maps,_ Justice promptly reminded me—but even at that, he didn't sell me out to the Templars. Perhaps he was just trying to help people like I was. I chewed my lip and vocalized my previous question in my head, attempting to gather some reassurance. The reply from the spirit was slightly delayed but it came out as a _yes, you are doing the right thing Anders. Keep away from that Hawke._ I couldn't help but loiter on how Justice seemed to hesitate. Maybe I could reconsider.

_Maybe staying up past your bedtime has gotten to you. Go to sleep._

I started to protest but found myself following Justice's request.


End file.
